


Eyes the Size of Baby Worlds

by angelsaves



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Accidental Baby Acquisition, Babysitting, Deus Ex Machina, M/M, Resolved Sexual Tension, past makeouts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-31
Updated: 2014-12-31
Packaged: 2018-03-04 14:00:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3070772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelsaves/pseuds/angelsaves
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's a baby on the steps of the Haus. Apparently Johnson the Metaphysical Goalie thinks somebody's storyline needs a little punching up.</p>
<p>(In which Holster is the baby whisperer, and Ransom is into it.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Eyes the Size of Baby Worlds

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Katarin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katarin/gifts).



> Please forgive my almost-total lack of knowledge of baby and her ways.
> 
> Title comes from Fall Out Boy's "I'm Like a Lawyer with the Way I'm Always Trying to Get You Off (Me & You)."

"Um, guys?" Chowder pokes his head into the kitchen. "There's something out here I think you should see."

Holster exchanges a glance with Ransom, and they both look at Shitty, who seems like he'd like to pass the buck to someone else, if anyone else were in the room. "Okay," Shitty says, and gets up from the table. "Did the lax bros leave us flaming dog shit again? Because you don't need permission to deal with that." He gets to the door, and says, "Oh my fucking god."

"It's not flaming dog shit," Chowder says, unnecessarily, because Dex and Nursey are standing on either side of a basket that definitely contains a baby.

"What does the note say?" Holster asks, pointing to the folded piece of paper pinned to her chest. (He's going with "her" because of the fuzzy pink onesie, for now.)

Shitty unpins it, reads it, and shakes his head, handing it to Holster.

_thought u guys could use a plot device lol :) i'll be back for her in a couple days. --johnson_

"That guy is so weird," Ransom says over Holster's shoulder. "Where did he even get a baby?"

"What are we going to _do_ with a baby?" Dex asks.

"Go get Jack and Bitty," Shitty tells Chowder, who scrambles up the stairs immediately. "Nursey, hand me the baby."

Nursey shrugs and picks up the basket of baby. "Here, bro," he says, handing her over.

"I thought I said nine- _fifteen_ ," Bitty says, halfway down the stairs, then, "What is _that?_ " He knuckles sleep out of his eyes, like that will help. "Is that a _baby?_ "

"Do you know what to do with babies?" Dex asks him, voice full of hope.

Bitty looks at him like he's just asked something incredibly stupid about Beyoncé: a mix of horror, disdain, and pity. "I'm an only child," he says. "I never had time to babysit, either, between skating and baking."

"Well, I always had a real job," Dex says defensively, and that's too damn much.

"Babysitting's a real job," Holster snaps. "God, Shitty, give me that baby." He scoops her out of the basket and cradles her expertly.

"Where did Holster get a baby?" Jack asks into the sudden silence.

"Johnson," Shitty says, and Jack nods solemnly. 

" _Well,_ " Bitty says. "I'm going to go look up what babies eat." He pulls out his phone and starts typing away.

"You're still going to feed us, right?" Chowder asks plaintively.

"Hey there," Holster says to the baby, who has light brown skin, fluffy black hair, and huge brown eyes, kind of like Ransom's. "How are you doing?" She gurgles at him. "I'm good too!"

"What's her name?" Ransom asks. "We need to call her something."

"Isobel," Jack says, and they all look at him. "What? That was Lord Stanley's daughter's name."

"Isobel," Holster repeats, bouncing the baby up and down. "Do you like that?"

"Ba," she says, and snatches at his glasses.

"I'll take that as a yes," he says. "Hi, Isobel!"

"Hey, I found this," Nursey says, holding up a diaper bag.

"'swawesome," Holster says. "There's your stuff, Isobel!"

"This is so weird," Dex says.

"That's very heteronormative of you, Poindexter." Shitty frowns at him.

"No, I mean -- okay, I wasn't expecting Holster to be a secret babysitter, but -- your old goalie just gave you a baby?!"

Shitty shrugs. "Weirder shit has happened," he says.

Dex shakes his head. "This school."

"Okay," Ransom says, grabbing his planner. "We need a schedule."

"I thought Holster," Chowder says, "I mean, right?"

"Not when I'm in class, bro," Holster says. "I can show you guys what to do, though."

"I can take her during your macro and ethics classes," Ransom says. "Who's free Monday-Wednesday-Friday 1:30-2:20?" Nursey raises his hand. "Good."

"Breakfast," Chowder says desperately.

"Yes, yes," Bitty says, waving one hand. "I'll start the French toast sticks." 

Holster just keeps jiggling Isobel up and down. She seems like a pretty chill baby, overall. How hard could this be?

Then she screws up her little face and makes an impressively bad smell. Well, this isn't his favorite part. He turns to grab the diaper bag from where Nursey left it, and finds Ransom already holding it.

"Thanks," Holster says. "You want to come learn at the feet of a master?"

"Totally," Ransom says.

Changing a diaper isn't exactly what Holster would call "fun," but it sucks a little less when he has Ransom watching his every move and taking actual fucking _notes_. "It's not a bio final, bro," he says, taping the diaper shut.

"It kind of is, bro," Ransom retorts. "I don't want to do it wrong."

"It's easy. Isn't it, Isobel?" He tickles her tummy, making her giggle, before zipping up her onesie again.

"Easy for you, maybe. You're, like, the baby whisperer." Ransom peers at Isobel like she's a chemical equation he could figure out instead of a tiny person.

"It's just practice," Holster says. He picks Isobel up and holds her in front of his face; she grabs for his glasses again, and he swings her out of reach of them. "You want to try?"

"I don't know," Ransom says. "I don't have lady-killing glasses like you do."

"You'll get by somehow." Holster puts Isobel in Ransom's capable hands. He's not sure which one of them is more confused, and it's kind of adorable.

"Oh, let me take a picture!" cries Bitty, phone camera at the ready.

"Don't get her face in it," Ransom says. "We don't know how her real family will feel about her being Twitter-famous." He makes a duck face at Isobel, and she giggles and swipes at his mouth.

"Of course not," Bitty says. "See?" He turns the screen to show them the picture: the downy back of Isobel's head, Ransom looking bemused, and Holster looking... fond?

"I like it," Holster says, and Bitty beams.

"So I can tweet it?" he asks.

Holster glances at Ransom, who nods and says, "Go for it."

Just then, Isobel starts to cry, and Ransom looks panicked, so Holster takes her back. "You hungry, little buddy?"

***

After everybody, including both Isobel and Holster, has eaten breakfast, and Jack has vacuumed, they take Isobel into the living room. She lies on the rug and flails her arms and legs like a little starfish.

"Hey, Ransom, c'mere," Holster says when Isobel starts frog-kicking. Ransom comes and crouches closer to them. "Put your thumbs on the soles of her feet and let her push."

"Okay," Ransom says dubiously. He does it, and Isobel sends herself shooting across the carpet, practically into Chowder's lap, letting out a delighted shriek. "Oh, nice!"

"Can I try?" Chowder asks, holding his hands up like he's protecting Isobel from pucks.

"Go for it," Holster says generously. Chowder presses gently on her little feet, and she propels herself into Jack's foot, which she contentedly gnaws on.

"I showered," Jack says helpfully.

"It's kind of like Spin the Bottle, only with a baby," Chowder muses. "Not that I want to kiss you, Jack!" He blushes bright red.

"He is pretty irresistible," Shitty says.

"Guys," Jack says, but he's grinning. He picks Isobel up and turns her around, then lets her frog-kick off his hands. This time, she bumps into Bitty, who squeaks with surprise.

"She's a baby, not a spider," Dex says.

Bitty rolls his eyes. "I'm not scared of stunting the development of a spider, now, am I?" But he keeps up the game, sending Isobel over to Shitty, to Nursey, to Dex, and back to Holster.

He scoops her up and pats her on the back, and -- "Ew," says Ransom. She spits up all down his back.

"No big deal," Holster says. "Here, hold her while I go get cleaned up."

"Hi, Isobel," he hears Ransom saying over his shoulder as he goes to shower. Holster grins. He'll train the team in the ways of babies yet.

***

When he gets back from his shower, the frogs have taken off, Shitty is studying in his room, and Jack is helping Bitty with the dishes, so Ransom is alone with Isobel. And he's singing to her.

Holster pulls out his phone and turns the camera to "record." This is too good to pass up.

"I got sunshine on a cloudy day," Ransom sings. "I've even got the month of May -- don't Vine this, Holster, oh my god!"

"Too late!" Holster posts it -- making sure that Isobel's face is hidden the whole time, of course -- and laughs at the horrified look on Ransom's face. "You were just too fucking cute to resist, bro."

"I'll show you too fucking cute to resist," Ransom says, getting up. "Jack! Come hold this baby so I can kick Holster's ass!"

"Nah," Jack says, leaning on the door frame. "This is more fun."

Ransom shifts Isobel to one hip and swats ineffectually at Holster with his free hand. Holster stays just barely within reach, because he's a dick, and laughs like crazy. "You can do better than that!" he taunts.

"Not with a baby!" Ransom yells. Isobel giggles and swipes at him with her little fists. "Not helping," he tells her,a nd she giggles more.

"Good girl, Isobel, keep doing that," Holster says, and darts in to tickle her tummy. Ransom takes this as an opportunity to pull Holster's hair, like they're frogs again, and Holster squawks. "You're a bad influence on the baby!"

"I'm a great influence," Ransom says. "I'm going to teach her science!"

"How long are you planning to keep her?" Jack asks. Holster had forgotten he was there.

"A couple of days," he says. "Then Johnson's coming back for her."

"Then you'd better get started," Jack says.

"She might be a little young for flash cards," Bitty says, drying off his hands.

Ransom scoffs. "You're never too young for flash cards. I thought we'd start with taxonomy, though." He pulls a little stuffed bear out of the diaper bag and dangles it in front of Isobel's face. "Here's your bear, Isobel! That's family Ursidae, suborder Caniformia, order Carnivora, class Mammalia, phylum Chordata, kingdom Animalia!"

"I understood a couple of those words," Holster says.

" _You're_ old enough for flash cards," Ransom tells him.

"Yeah, but the bear is cuter." Holster takes it from him and makes it do a little dance for Isobel. "What was it? Kingdom Animalia?"

"Very good," Ransom says, only a little bit condescendingly. "That means he's an animal. Then phylum Chordata means he has a spinal cord -- well, this bear doesn't, but he's a representation of --"

"Ba," Isobel says decisively.

"Bear! That's right!" Holster says, making the bear take a bow.

"Ba," Isobel agrees.

"I think she's a genius," Holster tells the guys.

"Most likely," Jack says.

Holster glares at him. "I think you're mocking me and my tiny protégée."

" _Your_ tiny protégée," Ransom says, at the same time as Jack says, "I never mock," and hides a smile with his hand. Bitty just giggles.

" _Our_ tiny protégée," Holster corrects himself, choosing to ignore Jack and Bitty. Isobel should learn that, sometimes, discretion is the better part of valor.

"Better," Ransom says. "Isobel, say A-ni-ma-li-a!"

"Ba!" 

"Close enough."

***

The rest of the day goes pretty damn smoothly, if Holster does say so himself, which he does. He teaches the guys how to change and feed and hold and burp Isobel, and she falls asleep on his chest while they watch some World War 2 thing on the History Channel -- he's not exactly sure, because he falls asleep too.

The clicking sound of Bitty taking a picture wakes him up a little, but he's so fucking comfy, with Isobel a warm weight on his chest and Ransom's shoulder warm and solid under his head, that he just grunts and goes back to napping.

That night, when Isobel starts to yawn into her mashed peas, Holster makes up a bed for her in the top drawer of his dresser, stacking the T-shirts that usually fill it neatly on top.

"Looking good," Ransom says, coming up the stairs with Isobel. "Does that look comfy, Isobel?"

She yawns, which Holster figures is good enough. They tuck her in with her little stuffed bear, and, miraculously, she falls right asleep.

"Wow," Ransom says, looking down at her.

"Yeah," Holster agrees. He peels off his shirt, decides the spot of dried baby drool can wait until his morning shower, and takes off his pants, too. "'Night, bro."

"'Night," Ransom says. He watches Holster get into bed, then turns back to Isobel. "What if something happens during the night?"

"We'll wake up," Holster says confidently. "Don't worry about it."

"Okay," Ransom says, sounding nervous. He undresses and climbs up to his bunk. "Good night."

***

Holster wakes up to the sound of giggles -- not just Isobel's, but the Haus ghosts', too. He checks his phone: 2:30 AM, just about time for Isobel to get another bottle.

"Don't get up," Jenny says, floating over to him. "We've got this!"

"Yeah," Mandy says. She's already feeding Isobel, looking confident. "We're _dibble_ babysitters!"

Whatever that means. He's already falling back to sleep as he decides that if Isobel doesn't like her ghostly babysitters, she'll cry and wake him up, right? Right.

***

"Be good for Ransom," Holster tells Isobel, who is still asleep in his dresser drawer, as he's leaving for macro at 8 AM. Ransom's still asleep, too, and they both look peaceful as fuck.

He can't concentrate in class, like, at all -- he keeps wanting to text Ransom and see how they're doing, starting to do it, and realizing that the sound of the phone might wake them up, over and over again. His notes are all little doodles of Isobel and Ransom where diagrams should be. It's just sad, because he can't fucking draw.

Finally, class is over, and Holster practically runs back to the Haus. The only sound from the attic is snores; Ransom is still sacked out on his bunk, and Isobel is lying on her back, playing with her toes.

"Hey there, Isobel," Holster says, and picks her up.

"Guh," she says cheerfully.

"Mmmph," says Ransom. "Is she okay?"

"She's fine," Holster says. "Needs a new diaper and some breakfast, right, little buddy?"

"Ba!" Isobel says.

"Sure, your bear can come too." Holster grabs the bear and sticks it in his pocket, and they head downstairs to get Isobel's day started.

It's not so bad, taking care of a baby. It reminds him of high school, mostly, only he doesn't think Johnson is going to hand him a couple of twenties when he gets back (he can always hope, though), and he has Ransom, which is way better than trying to do everything on his own.

The other guys are helping, too. Nursey comes by after his English class and feeds Isobel; Holster generously loans him a spare Samwell Men's Hockey shirt before racing off to business ethics. That goes a little better than macro did. He's still worried, still shoots off a couple of texts to make sure everything is okay ( _chill, bro_ , says Nursey), but he's not quite as obsessed as he was leaving Isobel and Ransom. He's not sure why.

"Let's take Isobel to the gym," Nursey suggests when Holster gets back from class.

"Sounds good to me, bro," Holster says. They trade off carrying Isobel, which makes Nursey chuckle.

"Like me and Dex getting Chowder back to his dorm," he says when Holster glances over Isobel's fluffy head at him. "She's less handsy, though."

"Chowder, really?" Holster says. "I would've thought Dex would be the lovey-dovey drunk."

Nursey chuckles again. "Maybe we just haven't gotten him drunk enough."

"That sounds like a challenge," Holster says, and they fist-bump.

"You want to fist-bump too, Izzy?" Nursey asks. Holster stops walking so they can form Isobel's hand into a tiny fist and bump it with theirs.

At the gym, they're immediately swarmed by people who want to admire Isobel, and how teeny she looks with two big hockey players.

"Where did you _get_ her?" squeals the women's hockey team's goalie.

"She's my cousin's kid," Nursey says easily. 

"She's adorable," says one of the football bros. "Can I hold her?"

Nursey looks at Holster, who says, "Sure, just make sure you support her head," and hands her over. The football bro holds her carefully, like she's made of glass, and actually fucking _coos_ at her. Holster kind of wants to get a picture, but he can't remember the guy's name, so maybe not.

"Me next!" says the goalie -- Norah?

"I'm going to use the bike," Nursey says. "I'll take over in 15, cool?"

"Cool," Holster says, watching Norah cradle Isobel in the crook of her arm.

Isobel seems pretty cool with being everybody's favorite new toy. She doesn't complain until Nursey's taken his turn passing her around and Holster comes back from his cardio, when she immediately bursts into tears and reaches out for him with both arms.

"It's okay, it's okay, I've got you," Holster says, letting Isobel wrap her little arms around his neck and press her wet face into his neck. "Nursey, you ready to go?"

"Ready," Nursey says, and they wave goodbye to Isobel's many new fans and head outside.

Nursey splits off to go back to his dorm. By the time Holster and Isobel get back to the Haus, she's cried herself out and is smacking her lips sleepily, hands fisted in Holster's T-shirt. He's worn out as fuck, though, so he sprawls out on the couch with her and falls asleep without even bothering to turn on the TV.

"Don't wake them up, bro," Ransom hisses, what feels like a while later.

"'m awake," Holster says blurrily, resting one hand on Isobel's back.

"You're good," Ransom says, patting his shoulder. "Go back to sleep."

***

Holster wakes up to Isobel biting his chin. "Hey," he says, and moves her backwards.

"Ba," she says, and he pats around himself until he finds her bear. She chews contentedly on its ear.

"Good nap?" Ransom asks, vaulting over the back of the couch to sit on Holster's legs.

"Not bad," Holster says. "Nursey and I took her on a field trip to the gym."

"Yeah? How'd that go?" He rearranges Holster's legs so they're on his lap instead of underneath him.

"Pretty good. She made a lot of new friends, didn't you, Isobel?" She smiles at him gummily.

"I bet you guys did," Ransom says. There's something strange in his voice.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Holster asks.

"Nothing," Ransom says. "Just, I bet having a cute baby helps your game. You know, like a puppy."

"Are you jealous? Because you can take her out tomorrow, if you want."

Ransom rolls his eyes. "I don't need Isobel's help to pick up."

"Fine," Holster says. "Go for it."

"Maybe I will," Ransom says.

" _Fine_." Holster gets up from the couch, shifting Isobel to his shoulder. "I'm going to go feed Isobel."

At least Isobel makes sense to him. She eats happily, burps a little, and doesn't roll her eyes. Can babies even do that? Holster doesn't think so, and he's grateful.

He's not sure when Ransom leaves. He is sure when he comes back: 2:30 AM, with lipstick smeared on his mouth and his shirt inside-out. Isobel immediately freaks out, yelling for a bottle.

"Are you going to feed her?" Holster demands, rolling over to face him.

"Nope," Ransom says. He takes off his inside-out shirt and scrubs at his face with it. "Too drunk. She likes you better anyway."

"You can't mollify me with the truth," Holster says. He gets out of bed and picks her up, then grabs the bottle he left by Isobel's drawer when he went to sleep, like, half an hour ago. 

"Sure, I can." Ransom strips down to his boxer-briefs, then climbs up to his bunk and lies on his stomach, watching Holster feed Isobel. "You're less pissed off already, aren't you?"

"That's thanks to Isobel, not you," Holster says, but it's still true.

"I hooked up," Ransom says, propping his chin on his hands.

"I figured," Holster says. "You about done, there, Isobel?" He pats her on the back until she burps. "So, congrats, I guess?"

"It wasn't great," Ransom goes on. "Do you ever think about that time we made out?"

"No," Holster lies, tucking Isobel back into her drawer. He thinks about it sometimes. It was -- not bad. Not as bad as it should have been, considering they were both hammered and Ransom isn't even into guys.

"Me neither," Ransom says, and rolls onto his back. "Except when I jerk off."

" _Ransom_ ," Holster says, genuinely shocked. "The baby!"

"Isobel, jerking off is a perfectly natural response to arousal," Ransom says, and fuck, he's shoving down his underwear and pulling out his cock. "Everybody does it."

"I guess she can't actually see you," Holster says. "Especially since she's asleep."

"You can see me," Ransom points out.

"Yeah," Holster says. He can see Ransom, all right, in all his glory, and for some reason, he hasn't turned away and gone back to bed yet. He's just... watching. "I can."

"I think about it _when I jerk off_ ," Ransom says, a little louder this time, but not loud enough to wake Isobel back up. "Like, what if we did it again, but more sober this time?"

"We could --" Holster swallows and tries again. "We could do that."

"Yeah," Ransom says. "We could, and it'd be 'swawesome." Then his hand stills. Holster is at war with himself -- does he say something? Does he step closer? -- when Ransom lets out a bed-rattling snore.

Well then. Holster gets into his bunk and stares at the roof of it, suddenly hyper-conscious of the fact that Ransom is just a few inches above it. Ransom, who apparently thinks about that one time they made out as often as Holster does, which is a lot more than "never."

He desperately wants to rub one out right now, but not quite enough to get over the baby being in the room. With a quiet groan, he rolls over onto his stomach and falls asleep.

***

When Holster wakes up the next morning, Ransom is gone, which he was expecting, and so is Isobel, which he wasn't. There's a note in the dresser drawer, though. He gets up, unfolds it, and reads it: _good work. ur totally close to resolution :) -johnson_

"That's fucking creepy," he says aloud to the empty room.

"What's creepy?" asks Ransom, coming up the stairs behind him.

Holster jumps. "Don't scare me like that!" he says. "And Johnson treating our lives like a fictional narrative is creepy."

"True story, bro," Ransom says. He comes up behind Holster, and suddenly their attic feels several degrees warmer. "Was he wrong, though?"

Holster swallows, and turns around to face Ransom. "I don't think he was," he says.

"Good," Ransom says. He takes another step into Holster's space, and the air between them feels charged and hot. "Because I really want to try this again."

"Me too," Holster says, and he kisses Ransom tentatively.

It doesn't stay tentatively for more than a moment. Suddenly, Ransom is all over him, tongue hot and slick against his, hands roaming from his shoulders to his back to his ass.

Not to be outdone, Holster slips his hands under Ransom's awful polo shirt to touch skin, pressing his hands to Ransom's abs, then around to get his hands on Ransom's ass, pulling him in even closer.

"Fuck," Ransom says. "That was better than I remembered."

"A lot better," Holster agrees. They're still pressed against each other everywhere but their mouths; Holster fixes that, kissing him again, just because he can.

"Want to mark you up," Ransom mumbles into his mouth. "Hickeys all over your neck that spell out PROPERTY OF JUSTIN OLURANSI."

"Sounds good to me," Holster says, moving down to kiss Ransom's throat, right where his collar opens. "Just tell me -- is this all because of Isobel?"

"You do look good with a baby," Ransom says.

"It's true, I do." Holster preens a little, then pauses. "Wait... does this mean you want to knock me up?"

"Nah, I like your girlish figure too much," Ransom says, and snorts. "I just thought, what if that's what Holster's future is like, and I'm not there?"

"Fuck _that_ ," Holster says. "You'll be there."

"Good," Ransom says, and proceeds to give Holster what feels like one hell of a hickey, all while grinding their cocks together, until Holster feels like his brains are leaking ouf his ears.

"Fuck, bro," he says, gasping, "we have to get our pants off before I literally die."

"Literally?" Ransom says, running his fingers possessively over the sore spot on Holster's neck.

" _Literally_ ," Holster repeats, and shoves Ransom's shorts and underwear down to his ankles, then backs him up against the nearest post of their bunk bed.

"You have a plan, here?" Ransom asks, tilting his head back.

"Yes," Holster says quickly, coming up with one. He steps out of his boxers and spits in his hand, then wraps it around both of their cocks, together.

"Good plan," Ransom says, thrusting up into Holster's grip. "You're -- fuck, Holster, fuck --"

"Yeah," Holster agrees. He tries to kiss Ransom as he jerks them off, but it devolves pretty quickly into just sort of panting against each other's mouths. That's still fucking hot, though, so he's not complaining. "I -- fuck, Ransom --"

"We're such -- fucking romantics," Ransom says, and he laughs as he comes, jerking his hips and pressing his face into Holster's shoulder.

"Fuck, yeah, we are," Holster says, and fuck, he's slicking his cock with Ransom's jizz, and it's so filthy and hot that he comes like crazy.

"Dibs on your bunk," Ransom says, and squeezes out from under Holster to flop on his bed.

"No sense in getting both of our sheets dirty," Holster says, and shoves him over until there's room to squash in together.

"Don't you have class?" Ransom complains, but he lets Holster snuggle up to him anyway.

"Johnson would say that the resolution of our sexual tension is more important than lecture," Holster says, and yawns.

"Yeah, but would you?" Ransom presses.

Holster looks him in the eye. "Yeah, I would," he says, and Ransom's grin is like a brand-new world being born.


End file.
